


Faded

by akouos



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Porn, Drug Use, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akouos/pseuds/akouos
Summary: He doesn't push but she pulls. Sole soothes her grief in the best way Hancock knows how.





	Faded

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my GDocs forever which I thought was a crime. This does contain consensual - albeit under the intoxication of drugs - sexual situations as a warning.

He keeps his hands on her thighs and relishes in the haze of her warm body on top of his, pressing at him crudely through the thick fabric of her jumpsuit and the American flag wrapped around his waist. 

His thick fingers grip down hard; not wanting to move or scare her off. The Mentats are sharpening every touch of her hands against him, her fingers slipping into the collar of his shirt to brush against the roughness of his skin while the Jet makes him hazy, blissful. His muscles are lax and he thinks what a perfect place to be.

She doesn’t look at him as she grinds herself needily against him, her chest heaving and straining against her suit.

He doesn’t want to push any further. He rocks his hips up into hers, happy with the slow lust it builds at the base of his spine. She’s going to make him come in his pants at this rate. He doesn’t mind. Her fingers tense on his shoulders.

She is the one who unzips her vault suit. He is the one who ignores the ring on her finger. She’s wearing a flimsy white tank top underneath and his cock jerks in his pants. He lets out a shuddery breath. She lets out a high, lilting laugh that sounds like wind chimes. Needily, she guides his lips to her collarbone and he obeys. 

He presses small kisses downwards as she reaches down to pull the tank top below her breasts. It snaps underneath the swell of them, revealing them to the cold air. He doesn’t even look until he’s sucked a hickey over the end of her sternum. They’re small, a handful and a half with puckered nipples that beg for his mouth. 

He wonders if she’s wet but when she lets out a soft whine and guides his lips to her nipple he decides again, not to push. He is happy enough to come between his legs for this girl, sucking on her tits while she uses him to get off. Very happy in fact. 

And she is. This close to her chest he can hear her ragged breath better. Her hands are no longer underneath his shirt but clutching the back of the couch, using it for leverage as she humps against him. Her body is tight and he can feel her skin against his cheek, sticky with sweat. He wants her to come. 

He’s dizzy and lavishes his tongue over her nipple, making her whimper loudly instead of the soft moans of encouragement and grunts of effort she had been breathing into his ear moments before. He likes both. She feels like sunshine and cold, wet rain. He thinks he hears it raining outside, in between her pants and what he realizes are his soft encouraging grunts.

She breathes a name that’s not his and his hips stutter for a second.

“I’m sorry-” she breathes.

He sucks softly on her breasts in forgiveness, leaving a few bruises that he soothes away with his tongue. It makes her wriggle in his lap and her knees squeeze harder against the outside of his thighs. 

In the end, he comes first with a soft grunt, thinking about how soft and wet and tight she must be. He shudders against her, his cum wet and warm inside his pants. He rubs his tongue against her nipple again, having been coaxed to bring his other hand up to play with the other by her frantic hand. He can feel her body shudder, desperately bringing herself to climax too. His free hand grabs her ass, encouraging her. 

She buries his face in his neck, muscles shaking as she grinds against him furiously. Finally, she lets out a broken, rough cry and quivers slack against him. 

He thinks it has been hours when it is only a minute until she sits up and slides her tanktop back into place. Her pupils are no longer the wide-brimmed saucers they had been an hour ago. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, not really wanting to look him in the eye. He understands. She flexes her fingers that are still shaking when they can’t grab a hold of her zipper. 

“Let me,” he grunts and closes her jumpsuit for her, the blue and yellow a little duller in the lamplight and the feeling of coming down. 

She climbs off of him and stretches out her hands a few more times before attempting to put on all of her armor. 

He sits back and watches her, unsure to really say. Usually, he’s good at this; after one night stands because that’s what he assumes this is. She’s clearly got a whole lot a baggage being a 200 year old popsicle and he’s not exactly the most well-adjusted ghoul in the Commonwealth. His heart pangs over thoughts of Bobbi and Goodneighbor and Fahrenheit and all his people. He’s even got a little bit of good old fiery rage at his brother mixed in there as well.

Usually sex doesn’t leave him this raw.

Christ. He scrubs a hand over his face and stops watching her bend down to strap guards over her shins.

“Sunshine,” he starts. The nickname has lost a little bit of its kick. She is not brilliant and charming and witty in her classical, pre-war demeanor anymore. The confidence has lost its glimmer. She’s just as dirty as the rest of them in this screwed up world. “I’m gunna go to bed, get some rest before we leave. You can come if you want.”

He thinks it’s a sweet gesture. He wouldn’t mind curling up to her and playing house for a few hours of shut eye. Maybe it would make her feel better.

She shakes her head and Hancock understands, it wasn’t him who had vulnerabilities laid out on the table with the Jet tonight.

“I just...need to be alone right now.”

And with that she leaves, twirling her wedding band on her finger.


End file.
